Betrayer of The Bloodraptor
by Wiigarg
Summary: The story about the heir to Obsidian Terrorwing. A story that comes in right before the story The Darksworn Knight and right after The Gurubashi Druid.
1. Chapter 1

Wiigarg Felmourne rose from his slumber in his private chamber at Urtgard Keep. He had awaken to realize that the bump on his head from his dream turned out to be real and that he had gotten it from hitting it on the wall during the dream's duration. It had been the same dream as before. He was watching his master fall from Blackrock Mountain through his scrying orb. It was at the moment in his life where he became the ruler of Golion's army which he could use to further his own schemes. He rose from his bed and walked to his clothing half asleep. He chooses to bore his blood red and fire orange robe. He then wielded his favorite staff, Soulkeeper. As he walked out onto the terrace, he began to feel a terrible excruciating pain on his forehead. It felt not like a migraine but rather as if something was trying to sprout through his forehead. It was as sharp as a blade and as hot as the fires of Outland. The pain was relieved as an unusually short Vykral came up to the warlock."Our warriors await your command." The warlock replied "I want an escort and sailors to take me to our outpost off Kalimdor." The Vykral nodded and walked off to carry out the orders. The warlock turned back to the horizon and thought to himself his plans. He decided to go over them to make sure he had thought it through. First he would sail away from Northrend to his outpost off Kalimdor. From there, he would transfer on to his ship run by goblins. It was particularly useful for it could be disguised as a neutral vessel. He would ride his goblin ship to Ratchet and the ride to Dreadmist Peak to meet his contact. Before he could go over the other phases of his plan he was interrupted by the Vykral he had given the orders to. "Your boat is ready master." The elderly warlock nodded and headed the docks to sail to his first destination on his journey to muster more power than his former master Golion could ever hope to accomplish.


	2. Chapter 2: The Journey to Dormagon Isle

Wiigarg was passing the time on his vessel sailing towards his outpost off Kalimdor, Dormagon Isle, by reciting some spells in dark magic. He had been trying to master a particularly difficult ritual that involved summoning a doomgaurd. "Why is this spell so difficult?" He asked himself. The answer soon came as a dark, cold voice filled his head. "Add the plutonic powder." said the male voice. It felt as if the very being talking in his head was breathing. Its breath was cold and chilling. The inside of his body was being frozen as he grew stiff and shivered and his skin briefly changed color due to the immense cold. His Vyrkal sailors saw this and came to his aid looking at him with shock and fear. The kind of fear you experience when the person next to you trips and breaks their leg and the bone protruding from it. You don't know what to do so you panic, just as the Vyrkal did.

During their panic the freezing inside Wiigarg became a fiery burn. He felt like kindle to a fire as the burning consumed and stung him inside him. The voice in his head spoke again but this time its voice was not cold and his breath not chilling but instead its voice was calmer than before and his breath comfortably warm despite his insides burning. "Wiigarg, calm your men for you will need them in the coming battle."

The burning inside him turned back to normal and he no longer felt the breath of something in his head. The Vyrkal watched him curiously wondering what had happened. Wiigarg ignored them and thought to himself. He was thinking about what the voice had said and the battle it mentioned. He looked out onto the horizon from the bow on the ship. The waters were bluer and the sky and the fish were lively despite the boats running by them. The warlock had just realized that the sun was rising. He was so enveloped in his ritual that he had lost track of what day or for that matter what time of the day it was. He was looking forward to landing at Dormagon Isle. Perhaps once he landed there he would treat himself to a drink. Alcohol doesn't thrill him as it used to. He must have had his fill after the Second War. He was one of the Warlocks to fight in the First and Second Wars and not be permanently corrupted. He stayed quiet during the Third War for he was greatly looked down upon being that he didn't beleive in Thrall's Horde. Although he did escape from human internment camps he chose not to sail to Kalimdor. Instead he grew friendly with the Blackrock Clan and stayed in the eastern Kingdoms and spent most of his time around the Alter of Storms in the Burning Steppes.

After the Third war he left the Blackrock Clan to see what the Horde had become. The old warlock joined Thrall's horde with a sense of regret for his decision not to sail to Kalimdor. After the founding of Durotar, Wiigarg joined the Bloodraptor Clan. But in almost no time, he had become under the service of his master, Obsidian Terrorwing. He served him with undying loyalty and also as a spy against the Bloodraptor Clan until his master's death. Now he was in charge of Golion's massive army and he plans to use it for his own schemes. The water was calm, A little too calm. The sailors didn't seem to notice as they went about their business getting Wiigarg to his destination.

Out of nowhere one of the boats jumped uncontrollably as in something under it was trying to lift it up. The sailors all turned to look at the unfortunate vessel. Before long the ship was topside and from under it, emerged an enormous kraken. It was bright pink and had tentacles as long as three of his boats. Although no head was seen, the length on the tentacles was information enough to its size. Almost immediately, the beast began to smash its tentacles onto the boats. Some were smashed into two pieces and sunk with the sailors having no way to save themselves. Those unlucky ones soon sank under the water. Wiigarg watched as the beats tore apart his fleet with a clam face. One Vyrkal went up to ask the warlock what they should do but there was no response. Wiigarg had not heard him or even seen him. In the eyes of the warlock it was just him and the kraken in the middle of the twisting nether with purplish skies and stars dotting the background. There were no screams no noise at all, just him and the kraken. Wiigarg looked at the beast without emotion then suddenly without thinking cast an extra powerful Shadow bolt. Time froze. Then things came back to normal. Wiigarg could see they kraken sink back into the sea and could hear the cheers of the surviving sailors. Wiigarg felt triumph for a minute or two and had a sly grin on his face. But that victorious face soon turned serious again. He settled down the sailors and ordered them back to work. For the kraken had pushed their ships closer to Dormagon Isle. Wiigarg could see the orcish towers and the neutral looking ships at the docks. Flying overhead was a dragon as black as a moonless night. "Prepare for docking." He commanded and soon, Wiigarg was already on the goblin ship and was sailing away from the savannah island towards Kalimdor.

As he retired to his quarters he thought to himself "What was that voice in my head?" but he grew tired from the run-in with the kraken and tired from thinking hard the question he had asked himself. Before he went to sleep, he grabbed a small vial filled with a bright yellow powder, the plutonic powder, and added it to the box filled with the supplies for summoning a doomgaurd. Wiigarg grew eager to try it but thought he should not for the voice in his head had still not been identified and he thought it wise not to go with its advice just yet.


	3. Chapter 3: The Deal at Dreadmist

Ratchet was a small goblin port in the Northern Barrens. Wiigarg stepped out from his vessel onto the dock. Nearby, a large group of Night Elves walked past him onto his boat thinking it would take them to Booty Bay. The warlock turned to his ship captain who was looking at him as to ask what they should do. Wiigarg gave a sly smile to the goblin who understood what he meant to say. The ship would carry the Night Elves out to the Great Sea and drop them off at an uncharted island. Wiigarg had a great hatred for Night Elves because to him, they were a curse upon the land despite their deep beliefs in nature's power. The Warlock chuckled to himself thinking about the poor marooned elves as he crossed the dock and walked over to the entrance to the town. He summoned himself a Dreadsteed and set out for Dreadmist Peak. But before he could get really underway he ran into a young, female goblin.

"Krinz." said the warlock the warlock flatly "How has your day been?" He said that even though he didn't care but just to be polite for she was looking right at him. The goblin replied, "I was just going to Ratchet to deposit some junk to make room for this food I need to bring on my trip." Wiigarg nodded and turned to get ready to ride on his horse. Krinz rolled her eyes and asked him, "Did you hear about Golion's death?" Wiigarg now how had become more interested. Perhaps it would be quite entertaining to hear what clan members thought of his former master's death. "I think that his army must have dispersed." continued the goblin, "Since he didn't leave an heir." Wiigarg smiled at the goblin's ignorance. Krinz must have seen this as Wiigarg's way of showing joy for Golion's death and continued on to another subject. "Where are you heading?" asked Krinz. Wiigarg sighed. I need to go to the Crossroads and talk with a demon trainer." Lied the warlock, now no longer looking at her as liars often do. "What? Did you grow annoyed of your pet?" asked the goblin half laughing. Wiigarg was growing bored of the conversation and replied yes then rode off before Krinz could say anything else. This was odd behavior for the Wiigarg Krinz knew, but quickly cast that suspicion from her mind and went on about her business.

Not long later, Wiigarg had arrived at Dreadmist Peak, greeting the only way to greet members of the Burning Blade with a lazy "Hail the Burning Blade." He then sat down in his dusty hut at the top of the mountain and tried to take a sip of his water from his skin flask but couldn't due to the sand and dust that it had been filled with since he began his ascent onto the mountain. Setting it down onto the candle covered table, an elderly orc probably the same age as Wiigarg sat himself in front of the warlock. "Hail the Burning Blade!" said them both in demonic tongue. "Grog," said Wiigarg to the orc before him, "how goes things on the mountain?" Grog glared at him with a serious look in his eyes. "What? asked Wiigarg. "You left us Wiigarg, and you dare show your face around here." replied Grog. You left us long ago to serve some master in the Eastern Kingdoms and then you just come back after so many years and walk around like you left to grab some meat for an afternoon!" "The other members don't seem to care." answered Wiigarg. "That's because those are new members, the ones you knew are long gone and are already serving at the headquarters." Continued was starting to look very angry. "Don't you know who was talking to you?" said Grog. Wiigarg began to look slightly shocked. "You know about that?" Grog nodded, "It was Rizal." Wiigarg had now become more at ease. "The imp? Why, he sounded much more threatening in my head." Grog looked to his side then back at Wiigarg. "He did have a little help from Xilal."Oh." said Wiigarg. "Why are you here?" asked Grog. I'm here to meet him." answered Wiigarg pointing at the undead over by the nearby pool. Grog looked at the undead then back at Wiigarg. He looked disappointed in the both of them and walked off. The undead knew that Wiigarg was pointing at him then slumped over to him and sat before the warlock. "Let's hurry up and get this business done." said the undead. "The jewel is guarded by the demon in the cavern below but you can't kill him. It's too messy."  
>" Just enslave him then walk away." Wiigarg looked at him curiously "It can't be that simple." "It's not," continued the undead "Xilal is here to see you and he is mad." Wiigarg rolled his eyes and shooed the walking corpse off. After the undead was gone, Wigarg chuckled to himself. After the seeing the horrors that he had seen serving under Golion, the name Xilal no longer made him shudder. He stood up and stretched himself. He then raised his murky flask to his face, closed his eyes, and took a large gulp from it. It tasted terrible. He had just drunk a gulp of water mixed with sand and dust. Wiigarg then looked up to see a very angry felgaurd face staring at him almost touching. The felgaurd was Xilal, a demon enforcer for the cult members on Dreadmist Peak. Xilal then whispered to Wiigarg obviously trying to hide his anger, "Welcome, Wiigarg." Then he backed away and struck his axe millimeters from Wiigarg's toes. "Thank you," said Wiigarg calmly, "I needed those toenails cut." The demon picked up his axe and glared at him. Anger swelling up his eyes. Wiigarg looked past the demon to see the whole of the cultists on Dreadmist Peak behind Xilal, watching with anticipation. The crowd included Grog and the undead Wiigarg went to meet. The undead looked to the warlock. Wiigarg looked back. The undead grabbed his wand ready to wield it. Wiigarg shook his head. The undead released his grip on his wand and turned back to Xilal, with various glances at Wiigarg. Xilal began to speak, "Wiigarg, you have come back here after you left us to pursue other goals. Goals that are more important than those of the Burning Blade? I spit at you feet." Xilal then spit acidic salvia at Wiigarg's feet. Xilal was talking in a way that was directed at Wiigarg but also in a way that he was speaking to the crowd. "I believe you have been talked to by one of us?" Wiigarg nodded. "Although I used the imp, it was truly me talking to you. I foresaw the coming battle on the high seas and I didn't want you to die just from that, so I gave you fair warning." Wiigarg rolled his eyes. He didn't see the demon's ramblings as a threat to him, but rather just something he has to sit through before he can leave. It looked as though Xilal was preparing for a climax in his speech and maybe even try to execute Wiigarg. He turned to the undead and caught each other's eyes. Wiigarg nodded and the loyal undead nodded back. Xilal had reached his climax and the crowd began to cheer for Xilal and jeer at Wiigarg. At this moment the loyal undead made his way thorugh the crowd towards Xilal. He then quickly drew his wand and aimed it at the demon as he turned to face and execute Wiigarg. "One final thing Wiigarg," said the demon "Adding the plutonic powder would help" He then raised his fel axe high in the air and began to drop.<p>

But before the blow could be put upon Wiigarg, The undead cast his spell and stunned Xilal but the demon had dropped the axe so the elderly warlock dogged it letting fall on the table behind him. In the commotion, some of the members saw the undead cast the spell and tackled him. Others however, thought the ones tackling the undead were those that stunned Xilal and were trying to wrestle their way through the crowd. So they began to tackle the tacklers and so on. Others just ran. The undead stood up picking up his jaw and began to try and escape the scene. However, he soon found himself being grabbed around his waist and being carried back by Xilal! The undead felt doomed for he could not fight off the demon. He hung his head a prepared, again, for death. But just as he was sure his head was going to be ripped off, he was laid down on a plainstrider. He turned to see Wiigarg standing beside Xilal. "What?" said the undead weakly. "Relax," said Wiigarg, "I enslaved him with some of my fel magic." "oh" said the undead. "Your jaw fell off again." Said Wiigarg handing the now standing undead his jaw back. "Did you get the crystal form the cavern?" asked the undead. "Xilal knew I was trying to steal it so he had it on him." answered Wiigarg holding up the demonic crystal. The crystal was breathtaking. It shined a light green and was shaped like a cylinder with sharp, cut points at the end. "Cront, I have not forgotten what you did for me." said the warlock. "This only adds to my debt to you." Cront answered, "You have no debt to me, my only request is to serve you and bring a new world to Azeroth." "Whatever." scoffed Wiigarg as he stabbed Xilal in the chest and neck before kicking the body down the mountain. He then nodded to Cront, summoned his dreadsteed, and then rode off down the mountain.

"_All I need now are the other reagents then I can be the most powerful being in Azeroth."_ thought Wiigarg. As he thought through his plan he swore loudly just as he came up to the Crossroads. For one of the reagents was in Dalaran. Which he had forgotten was no longer in Loarderon. "If only I had been thorough with my plan." He said to himself as he laid himself down on a hammock at the local inn. To make himself feel better about his mess-up about a fact which he had known for the longest time, he drank alcohol which in fact he did feel. He drank and he drank until he could feel nothing and fell into an intoxicated sleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Mass Murder and Old Gods

_"Too much death. Too much pain. What has come of you? You betrayed your friends, you allowed your kin to grow up with strangers, and you even abuse your inheritance from your late master despite his cruelty it was dishonorable! What lengths will you go to? To see a world that even you know is wrong and horrible? I need no answer. I know what a monster you are. I know that you have no justification for this. I have tried to part your actions from the good in you but I cannot no longer! You are doing this for the soul reason of greed! My child, I have watched you grow in this terrible warring world. You are stronger than this! But you have forsaken me. You worship demons, the very same demons I damned away from my hovel. Time and time again I have protected you and allowed salvation. But now, I'm afraid that I must forsake you just as you have to me._

The words rang in Wiigarg's head as he slept. In his head he saw a grand white staircase leading up to a shining light that was speaking to him. He felt as if he was there. He felt as if he was there at the bottom of the staircase. When the voice ended his message, Wiigarg was thrown into a black abyss and fell down and down until landing, awake, in his hammock at the inn in The Crossroads. It was still late still. Wiigarg felt hot and he was sweating. He got up and chugged down a tankard of water. He thought about the dream for a short while, but soon began to try and ignore it thinking it was just the alcohol which he had his fill of last night. He had such a bad headache. The innkeeper soon came to his side wondering why he was up and why he was sweating. "Hangover?" asked the innkeeper. Wiigarg looked to him with a haggard face. The innkeeper looked at him; shocked at poor condition Wiigarg seemed to be in. "Must be." answered Wiigarg. "Are you sure? You look ill to me." asked the innkeeper with a sense of worry in his eyes. "Just check me out and point me the way to anybody who knows about the light." said Wiigarg grabbing his belongings. The innkeeper nodded and went to check Wiigarg out as a visitor. He then told him his best chance to meet somebody who knows a lot about the light would probably be a Blood Elf. Wiigarg nodded then left without another word. He summoned his Dreadsteed and rode off towards Orgrimmar to catch a zeppelin to Undercity.

Along the ride, Wiigarg thought about his dream. Perhaps it wasn't the alcohol. But what was that dream all about then if it wasn't just a hangover? He was crossing the river onto Durotar now. The damned cataclysm flooded the river and made getting to and from the Barrens to Durotar perilous for some but of course, not for Wiigarg. Coming onto Razor Hill, Wiigarg thought he should change clothes. He had been wearing his red and orange robes for days now. He dismissed his Dreadsteed and went into the inn to change. There were no private areas to change but that didn't bother Wiigarg. Growing up on Draenor, he had virtually no chance to ever be private besides times he was with his mate or when he took part in demonic rituals in which the others just avoided him. Wiigarg chose to don his bright blue, sleeveless, and chest padded robe. Although Wiigarg was comfortable changing in the open because he was always confident nobody wanted to see him naked, he was disgusted by two giggling tauren watching him. Interracial mating always disgusted Wiigarg. Much like to the troll ship captain that belongs to the Bloodraptor Clan. He married a Blood Elf and adopted a stepdaughter, also an elf, who in fact is "dating" a troll. Now who else was to walk in at that time but Durzarn, the troll that Wiigarg was just thinking about? Durzarn quickly saw Wiigarg and immediately went up to greet him. After Wiigarg became Durzarn's friend as a way to further his establishment in the clan during his service to Golion, Durzarn has taken every chance to be at the side of Wiigarg. "ello mon! Ow you been doin?" Wiigarg answered him, "I've been fine. You?" he said with a very fake enjoyment for talking to Durzarn. "Yah, I be well too. Anyway, dere be a goblin here to see you. He be sayin that he knows ya." "Really? Well I guess I should talk to him." Wiigarg patted Durzarn on the back and walked over to the goblin across the room.

"Yo! I mean er… Greetings master Wiigarg." said the goblin, bowing. "Let's talk in private." Wiigarg told the goblin. They walked over the behind the inn near the wooden wall. "What do you have for me goblin?" asked Wiigarg. "I think you may need these master." answered the goblin holding out some mini-bombs. "Smart thinking…for a goblin. That will be all. Shoo." said Wiigarg now holding the bombs. "What to do with these?" thought Wiigarg. He would have to save them for something truly diabolical. But he didn't have to save them long, for across the trail, he saw Bloodraptor Newbloods being initiated into the clan. He hid the bombs in his sleeve and walked over to them. "Hello Alk'wan." said Wiigarg. "Ello dere. Back from your trip?" asked Alk'wan. "You could say that. Are these the newbloods?" asked Wiigarg. "Yes I was just finishing up. Why don't you accompany Durzarn in welcoming them into the clan? I have to move right to the next group." asked Alk'wan. "Of course chieftain." Answered Wiigarg as Durzarn came walking up. "Alright newbloods, welcome to the clan. We shall see if any of you become warriors or tradesmen." said Wiigarg. Wiigarg turned to see Durzarn was coming up. Wiigarg had to hurry. He armed the bombs in his sleeve by pressing a button with his middle finger. He now only had Ten minutes, plenty of time. "This is Durzarn, a real pirate captain." said Wiigarg pointing to Durzarn. "Durzarn, take care of these newbloods. I need to go and greet the other group." Durzarn nodded and rambled on to the newbloods. Wiigarg went around back of the tent hanging overhead and tossed the mini-bombs as he went around it. He then set out to greet the next group of newbloods. He waited 3 minutes but it seemed like hours waiting for the blast to go off. He watched the chieftain mark the newbloods almost sweating. "Wiigarg, yo be sweatin. Do ya need da sha-." Then it happened.

The blast went off with a loud boom. Time slowed down. Everything went silent besides the ringing in the ears Wiigarg could hear. Wiigarg turned to see, mouth open with awe at the power of the mini-bombs, the explosion. Young newbloods were flying in the air, some dismembered. Durzarn was thrown back but was shielded by two corpses. He saw Alk'wan trying to get the other newbloods to safety. Everybody else around Razor Hill was either running panic or frozen with shock. The goblin was hiding behind the wall at the inn half watching and half hiding. Wiigarg saw a troll arm flying right at him. It was burned and without a body. Wiigarg couldn't help but smile at the destruction he had caused. Time was starting to come back into focus. Horde grunts were running up to the scene and keeping bystanders away. Wiigarg ran to assist Durzarn. He had to help him or he would look suspicious. A Horde Sergeant came up to him and assisted him in helping Durzan to safety. Then asked Wiigarg: "What the fel happened?" Wiigarg answered him with some very good acting as if he was concerned, "Looks like a bomb went off around the newbloods. Wiigarg turned to see none of them were alive, a success in Wiigarg's mind. The Horde Sergeant the pulled up a bomb fragment with the crest of Wiigarg's engineers. "This mean anything to you?" he asked. "All I know is that the goblin over there is part of that cartel." answered Wiigarg pointing to the goblin hiding the inn. The goblin saw this and bowed slightly, accepting his fate. "Then we have our murderer. Thanks warlock." said the Sergeant before running after the goblin. Wiigarg had just murdered about 10 or 20 people and younglings, and it felt great. "Wiigarg!" said Alk'wan, "I need you to do something for me. Deliver this message to Zulling at the hut. He can pass it on. It seems a certain cartel wants problems." Wiigarg nodded then said, "This is a tragedy chieftain, are you sure you can handle this?" "I'm sure" answered Alk'wan. "Now go!" Wiigarg rode. After that mass murder he will need to carry out his order. He quickly rode his Dreadsteed to the hut and threw the message to Zulling who looked at him wondering what the heck he was doing. "Pass it on." ordered Wiigarg and rode off towards Orggrimar.

Wiigarg hated Orgrimmar. The city reeked and was being run by a pathetic excuse for a leader of the Horde, Mag'har Garrosh Hellscream. Wiigarg tried to get out of Orggrimar as soon as possible. So he rode up to the zeppelin tower and immediately onto the zeppelin towards Tirisfal. He set Himself down a cozy spot below decks, a prepared for the journey to Tirisfal.

The ride was unussualy short. He had only napped for two hours. Some lucky winds must have turned in his favor. As he stepped off from the tower and onto the ground he looked around. The lands are still cursed and the castle still ruined. Wiigarg remembered the Second War. The city looked fresh and ripe for razing. If only The Horde had succeeded. That doesn't matter now. He needs a priest. Luckily, he ran into one on his way to the translocation portal. "Hello there elf." said Wiigarg. "Hello orc. How may I be of assistance?" asked the elf priest. "I need to ask you something, about the light." said Wiigarg. The elf looked overjoyed. He must have been waiting a long time for an orc to ask about the light. The elf must be hoping to convert Wiigarg. "Well, let us sit down and talk then." said the elf. They sat down on an old bench in the courtyard. "What do you need to noble orc?" asked the elf. The orc laughed to himself about him calling Wiigarg noble. "I need to ask you about any old stories about the light." "Like what?" asked the elf. "Like an old god. An old light god." answered Wiigarg. "Well, the light speaks of no particular god but there is an old story. About a god whose worshippers' practices greatly resemble those of the Light. He is an ancient god. This god no longer has worshippers and is only mentioned by scholars who go deep into the history of religion on Azeroth." Wiigarg leaned in to listen as the priest went on. "He is known as an omnipotent and omniscient god. A god that created all. The god offers salvation. This god is long forgotten and many don't even think on it. As for me, I think you should drop it. The history of Azeroth and the Titans is the only one we can truly believe. There are some who believe in a god that created all even the titans. But this story is not for you to bother. I'm afraid I must leave you. Then the priest left. Wiigarg was left sitting there, wondering what ancient god he spoke of.

Wiigarg used the Translocation orb into Silvermoon City. After settling down at a bar in Murder Row, he thought to himself, _"Was that god the same that spoke to him_? _Impossible. I need to focus on my mission."_ Wiigarg was in Silvermoon City. Where was he to go? Wiigarg sighed to himself. He had let a silly dream get him sidetracked from his mission. He had three choices: Go to Dalaran and take part in a heist, go to outland and search for months for an old dimensional portal that he hope still exists, or find Vyndakian and get his unholy blade my any means possible. The blade isn't demonic, but that blade the knight carries is just the thing he needs to reap death upon Azeroth. But he will need help. He will especially need the stone locked away and guarded below the Violet Citadel and he will need to commit the ritual at the dimensional portal and finally the Alter of Storms in the Blasted Lands. Only then could he take on the Darksworn Knight and take his blade. After that he could destroy Azeroth. Leave it in ruin. Make Azeroth worse than the orc invasion, The Scourge, the cataclysm, and Deathwing combined. He smiled as he thought about Azeroth's inevitable destruction. Oh what a day that will be. Wiigarg will be the one to bring about the final destruction of Azeroth. Golion would be an ant that was squashed compared to what Wiigarg was going to do. Wiigarg turned to get a last look at the doomed Blood Elves before retiring. But instead he saw two trolls enter the inn, both of the Bloodraptor. Both looking very upset, glaring at Wiigarg. Wiigarg thought to himself, "Oh sh-."


	5. Chapter 5: The Stone

"Jarn'dor, Alk'wan. What brings you here?" asked Wiigarg in a polite voice. "We could be askin you da same ting mon." answered Alk'wan. "Where 'ave you been? We lost you after the blast." "I came here to meet a priest." answered Wiigarg. "A priest of da light? Tat be really weird mon." said Jarn'dor. "My private business is not yours. Now that I have answered your question why don't you answer mine?" asked Wiigarg. "We came to find you" answered Alk'wan "You're a suspect in the murder of 16 newbloods." "ME!" exclaimed Wiigarg. "Yes you" said Jarn'dor "Your coming with us. Better you bring yourself in rather than the Horde." "You're not being very discrete." said Wiigarg right before a group of Blood Elf city guards entered the inn. Wiigarg waved goodbye to the trolls. They looked at him puzzlingly. The guards spotted them and started after Wiigarg. Wiigarg was quick to think used fear on the guards before darting out the back door.

Once exiting the inn he summoned up a Dreadsteed and prepared to escape the city. But before he even mounted the demonic animal, an alarm rang out and guards were rushing all around the city. Wiigarg knew they were looking for him so he rode as fast as he could towards the main entrance. But the Silvermoon guards weren't giving up that easy. They blocked the gates in an elven wall, weapons ready to impale Wiigarg. Wiigarg jumped from his mount and landed right in front of the guards. The Dreadsteed was impaled. It was short standoff before Wiigarg ended it by beginning a short summoning ritual. Guards were coming up behind Wiigarg in an effort to surround him but stopped when a giant, glowing, green meteor came down from the sky and landed on the elven wall blocking the gate. The impact totally wiped out all of them. An infernal rose from the crater and immediately went to attack the remaining awestruck elves. Wiigarg smiled to himself as the flaming demon tore apart the gaurds trying to make a futile attempt to destroy it. Wiigarg took one last look back before riding off out the gates.

The warlock had no idea where he was going to go. Caught off track of mission too many times, he was running out of time before his true mission was discovered by his enemies. He dismissed his mount somewhere on the highways of the Ghostlands. He looked into his bag and pulled out a dusty Hearthstone that had been kept in the bottom of his bag. As he pulled it out he spotted the crystal he had taken from the demon some time ago. It explained why his infernal did so much damage which he had not wondered until now. He then turned his attention back to his Hearthstone. He couldn't imagine why he still had it. He must not have used it in years. He fumbled with it as he tried to remember how to operate it. He didn't even remember where it was linked to. After almost dropping it for a second time it began to glow in his hands. He had no idea how he got it to do that but just kept his grasp on it. Some time passed as it grew brighter and brighter until, he disappeared. After traveling through a dark realm of colorful characters being chased by other characters he found himself at the Horde inn in Dalaran.

Wiigarg couldn't believe his luck. Last time he was here he was taking down an agent against the Obsidian Terrorwing who had gone underground to escape his wrath. Now back, Wiigarg remembered how much he loathed the city. He was an outsider being an orcish warlock in a former Alliance city of magic making it that much harder to get what he needs. He found his way into the sewers to come across the arena. He then caught the eye of a male human who had just finished his fight. The human was wearing a dark set of plate armor covered in scratches and breaks from previous fights. This human was remembered by Wiigarg as one hired by him to assist in the assassination of the agent. Perhaps it was time for him to serve once again.

"Morothis." said Wiigarg as he approached the mercenary. "It's me, Gargath." Gargath was a fake name Wiigarg took up to hide his identity during his mission in Dalaran. Morothis, likely another fake name, looked up at Wiigarg. "Another?" said Morothis though his helmet. Wiigarg looked at him calmly. "Heist." "Payment?" responded Morothis. "Same." replied Wiigarg. Morothis stood up and followed Wiigarg as they walked around the sewers. Wiigarg began to brief him. "I need an item taken from a cell underneath the prison." Morothis nodded as Wiigarg continued. "It's a stone of sorts but it's well guarded. I need you to help me with it." Morothis asked no questions and awaited his orders. "I need you to give me your map of secret passages. Maybe I can find a way to the chamber. When the time comes, you will need to start a distraction." Morothis handed Wiigarg a map of secret passages. There was one particular area under the prison that all avoided. This had to be where the stone was hidden. Wiigarg turned to the mercenary beside him and handed him half of his gold payment. Morothis then went off to his position. Always seemed to know where to be that man.

Wiigarg looked at the map and the presumed location of the stone. This map is the most accurate of any others in the underground, but it lacks any information regarding defenses that might be in place around the prison. The closest way into the chamber appeared to be from within the citadel and directly down from inside one of the cells. But the Kirin tor would have to go into the cell without teleportation because most likely defenses would have been in place to prevent any intruder from casting spells. So, al he had to do now was figure out that non-magical way in and recover it. Simple enough. Wiigarg made his way to in front of the citadel. He then cast unending breath on himself. He looked to his right to see Morothis causing come havoc to a fruit stand. For a human in heavy plate armor he was extremely agile. He bought enough time for Wiigarg to jump into the water and still escape from the gaurds back into the sewers. Wiigarg swam around in the water till he found a part of the stone on the floor different from the other blocks. Wiigarg swam to it and tapped it with his staff. He then cast a fel meteor onto it and busted it open. Gaurds whent to look into the water searching for what happened to the meteor as Wiigarg looked into where the block used to be. The water stayed above the hollow area below. It was like looking through a window underwater into a cave. Suddenly, he was sucked in and fell into a dark cavern. The opening sealed itself and became pitch black as the warlock fell into a underwater cave.

Looking at Dalaran from the outside it would seem that the underground wasn't this large but it looked like a complex filled the other nooks and crannies of the underground. Incredibly dark, the only light Wiigarg had was his staff, Soulkeeper, and its internal fel flame. Three different tunnels led thought under the citadel, He took the one on his far right. It led him down a short path into a pile of rodent skeletons all over spike trap that must have retracted at one time. Wiigarg went back into the middle passage through longer path which led him to an energy field meant to cripple any intruders. Again, Wiigarg turned back. Through the middle path, Wiigarg walked for only a few paces before almost running into an impressive door sizing 7 feet tall. In the center binding the split was a circular lock glowing a dark purplish color. The warlock placed his hand on the lock only to pull it off immediately. Upon touching, Wiigarg's hand burned incredibly. Being that the stone inside was a powerful demonic artifact, the magi must have placed a charm on it to ward off any intruders carrying demonic taint. Wiigarg had become stuck at this point. "What to do." He thought to himself as he stared at the stone door. Wiigarg thought he was mad when he went back into the middle path. He thought that maybe there would be a switch at the end of the field. Being that this was only hunch Wiigarg summoned an imp to do the job. The tiny demon cast a fire spell down the corridor to provide some light. Indeed at the end was a switch of sorts. "This is either a way in or a trap" thought Wiigarg. He then ordered his imp through to activate it. The demon obeyed and upon entering began to shrivel and ultimately die. Wiigarg saw that the field only spread on the ground. So he picked up a stone and simply through it at the switch. The switch was activated and the warlock heard what sounded like stone grinding and water rushing. Wiigarg went back into the central chamber to see the water level rising. He quickly rushed down the middle path to the door to see it now open. Just beyond it, Morothis impaled on a spike trap.

Morothis must have opened the door which explains the rushing water. What the switch had done was yet to be revealed if it did anything at all. Before departing the corpse, Wiigarg took back his sack of gold and some of the Black Market mini-bombs. Wiigarg walking down the path came to a small hole. No bigger than the size for him to squeeze through. Wiigarg attempted to summon another imp to go before him but could not. He had just realized his Stave's flame had just gone out and was being light by a single torch. Wiigarg shrugged to himself just before forcing himself into the hole. Upon finally getting out he stepped into another chamber, light by blue flame torches. Wiigarg suddenly heard what sounded like a spike trap and a tear in fabric. Upon turning around he found himself only a hair's length away from a very large spike trap. Wiigarg laughed as those who have just evaded death often do as he thought about how many spike traps there were in this cavern. He continues t walk down the dim path until he reached a magical cell around a massive levitating green stone. Simple enough, Wiigarg took the mini-bombs and set them around the magic cell. Stepped a while back, and let the explosion break loose.

Although the bars had broken the path behind Wiigarg had collapsed. Perhaps he should have thought this through a bit more. He was now trapped with the pedestal and the stone. Wiigarg reached up to it and grabbed it. Incredibly light, he made room for it in his bag and placed it in. Smiling to himself he began to try to move the rocks to make his way out. Once he made room he grimaced to see that a wall had dropped and blocked any hope of escaping. Wiigarg slumped on the rocks. He was without his power and trapped. This had been a setup. To make sure any that might have made it in would not get out. "No." He said to himself. "I'm stronger than this." Wiigarg took his staff and snapped it in half, releasing its energies. Wiigarg was a able to absorb this for short amount of time. He then used all of what power he was able to muster and created a rift, which was quickly shrinking. Wiigarg struggled to walk his weak body to it before it disappeared. The rift was almost halfway gone and Wiigarg wasn't there yet. The rift was almost gone, Wiigarg had just reached in. The rift was almost gone, Wiigarg was doomed. But the warlock finally made his way in, losing his right shoe just before the rift disappeared.

Wiigarg found himself just outside Thunderlord Stronghold. As the weak warlock was carried to the inn for recovery, Wiigarg caught a glimpse of another Bloodraptor watching him. Wiigarg eye widened then all went black and the old warlock had passed out.


End file.
